The Long Road to Hogsmeade: Freedom Included
by Mercurial
Summary: Floating in the clouds of his friend's mistrust, Harry must overcome society's fears of him and defeat the dark forces which brew around him. [Halted indefinately]
1. When I'm Gone

**_Author's Note:_** I hope everyone enjoys this story to come. Though beware, I usually stop writing when I recieve no reviews, so review! 

**_Disclaimer:_** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_**The Long Road to Hogsmeade: Freedom Included**_  
**Chapter 1**

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Harry Potter was a not a normal boy, rather quite the opposite. He was shy, unbelievably so, a trait rare in the newer generation. He had a winding lightening bolt shaped scar, not quite in the middle of his forehead, slightly to the right of it. By far though, the most abnormal thing about this boy was the fact that he was a wizard. 

Harry lived on Privet Drive with his most horrid muggle relatives, the Dursleys. The Dursleys were obsessed with being the most normal family in the neighborhood. Unfortunately for Harry, the Dursleys had no room for a most abnormal boy in their perfectly normal family. So once again, because Dudley had wanted to go to the zoo, he was trapped in an old, cat-infested house that smelt like cabbage, slightly down the street. 

The Dursleys had left strict instructions with Mrs. Figg not to let him outside. They didn't dare take him to the zoo after what had happened last time. They didn't want the neighbors to see him. Most of all they didn't want his babysitter, Mrs. Figg, to know about his abnormality. Thus, Harry was on his "best behavior." 

Looking back on the morning, Harry found himself in the Kitchen of number 4 Privet Drive. 

"You mention one word of your weirdness boy and you won't eat for all we care. No funny business." He said as he waved his chubby finger back and forth. "Don't you try anything, boy." 

Thus, the reason that he was stuck staring out the window on the top story of Mrs. Figg's house, on a Saturday afternoon. Mrs. Figg had lost one of her favorite cats, who happened to be hiding in the attic of her old house on Privet Drive, so Harry was stuck up here. 

"The dusty old attic, great." Muttered Harry as he sat down on an old chest. "Why does everything have to happen to me?" 

Harry looked up at the roof . . . in hope of an answer. The roof. The roof. The same roof with cob webs, and high cracked beams crossing it. There surprisingly enough was the lost cat. 

"How did you get up there?" Harry asked. The cat moved around slightly causing dust to come spraying into his eyes. 

Harry wiped dust off of his glasses and out of his eyes. Why was he stuck here? It wasn't fair. Most of the kids his age would never have to go through this. Harry looked up at the spotted cat. 

"Both you and I are stranded, it appears." He mumbled. 

"Harry, have you found him yet?" shouted Mrs. Figg from the bottom of the stairs that led up to the attic. 

"Just a second, Mrs. Figg." Shouted back Harry. Harry stacked a few boxes on top of each other and climbed up on top of a few. He placed one foot on the window seel and another on one of the boxes. Harry took the kitten, getting a few scratches along the way, and climbed down. 

Harry took the last step off of the stairs and handed the cat to old Mrs. Figg. 

"Thank you, dear, I hope you didn't get hurt, did you? Your Aunt would kill me if you had." Stated Mrs. Figg as she walked from the away shaking her free hand back and forth. "Come watch the Tele with me, Harry dear, and I will let you have a slice of Fruit cake after lunch." 

Harry had no choice, so he walked into the living room with his head down. For the next hour and a half, Harry had watched "The Wheal of Fortune" with Mrs. Figg, who would shout out the answers every time a contestant got one wrong. 

Harry had a salad with Mrs. Figg for lunch. A frozen salad. Harry had thought that the taste must have left the food when it was frozen. Luckily for Harry, Mrs. Figg fell asleep soon after her last bite of salad, so Harry wouldn't have to have some of her horrible fruit cake. 

Harry stared at the roof for a while before going into her back yard where he climbed the tree. He sat for close to an hour in the tree, listening to the birds and feeling the tree sway back and forth, until Mrs. Figg came running out of the house quickly. 

"Harry, get down from there, you might hurt yourself." She watched until he climbed his way down the tree. "Come on inside, I'll let you see my cats." 

Harry had no choice in the matter, so he walked inside the house and watched old Mrs. Figg shuffle through old photo albums over and over again. 

When the Doorbell rang, Harry was actually glad to go home to the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon made Harry run home. He had only rung the doorbell to look normal. Harry was glad for any chance to be with himself, and though he hated to admit it, he was finally getting some much needed exercise. 

When Harry arrived at the front door, he found it locked, so instead went around to the kitchen door. Harry found a list of chores to do . . . The door was again locked. Harry sighed deeply. He knew all about this 'game.' He had to do the chores, and then he could come inside. Harry stared at the list, it was so long. Apparently, the Dursleys, decided that it they would make up for the morning that he was at Mrs. Figg's house. 

Harry realizing that he wouldn't be able to get inside of the house until he completed the list of chores he was given. Harry set to work on the chores, starting by cleaning the windows. 

* * *

The sun was setting when Harry put down the gardening shovel that he had been using to dig up weeds inside of the Dursley's garden. He quickly put the shovel away before heading around the back of the house once more. 

Harry's muscles ached and he had a sunburn across his cheeks. He was sure to get a tan from it. 

When he reached the door he found it unlocked, thankfully. He stepped inside. 

"Took you long enough, lazy boy." Uncle Vernon grumbled from his chair in the living room. "You missed dinner." 

Was it that late already? Did he spend all afternoon outside doing chores. Harry knew he shouldn't ask the question on his mind, but something possessed him to ask it anyways. 

"Where's my dinner?" 

"What dinner?" yelled his uncle as he stood up. "You'll get nothing out of me you lazy boy!" Vernon through his arm back, knocking over a lamp in the process. "Now get up to your room." 

Through out this entire argument Harry could only think of one thing, 'Boy, does uncle Vernon have bad breath.' He wrinkled his nose. Harry marched to his room, quietly, surprising his uncle. 

When Harry reached his room he found that Hedwig was waiting for him. He untied the package that sat on her leg. 

"Thanks girl," he said as he patted Hedwig's head. He untied the package, a thin, paper-wrapped parcel. There was no inscription on the cover. Whoever had sent the package to him had felt the need to stay anonymous. 

Harry quickly tore open the parcel, ignoring his hunger for the moment, to find what looked like a set of three throwing darts. Who would send him throwing darts he wondered? Would Sirius or Professor Dumbledore trust him with such weapons? Besides, he didn't even know how to throw stones, much less darts. 

Harry swiftly came to conclusion that the darts set was definitely not sent by Sirius or Professor Dumbledore. 

'Hermione would never send anything like these.' Thought Harry, she probably wouldn't trust him with them, she never seemed to trust him to take care of himself. 'Maybe Ron?' 

Harry stared down at the set. Definitely not Ron, these were made with fine perls and... were those... were those Phoenix feathers? Harry saw the name '_Harry Potter_' etched in gold along the shaft of the throwing dart, the green shaft of the throwing dart. Could it be? Could he... Voldemort have somehow been able to send Harry something? No. He couldn't have, could he? No. What was he thinking. There were too many wards protecting the Dursley's house to have that happen. 

Harry picked up the top throwing dart from the box. Just as he thought, the tip of the dart was covered in poison. Why would he need something covered in poison. Green. Poison. None the less. Why? That was the question. Why? 

* * *

Harry woke up with sweat covering his face. What had happened? Memories of the small throwing darts flooded into his mind. Was it a dream he asked himself. It couldn't have been, it was so realistic.

He looked down at the floor for a few moments. It. Was. A. Dream–nothing more. When had he fallen asleep?-oh well... it obviously didn't have anything that important in it.

Harry strode down the stairs with an air of authority surrounding him. The positive jump in his step seemed to have set place inside him like it was edged in stone. 

"Get your lazy butt in the kitchen, boy." growled his uncle. Harry's step suddenly lost its positive jump. 

'Perhaps that positive jump needs to settle in.' thought Harry. He slowly slid his way into the kitchen where he knew exactly what he was suppose to do.

Slowly walking over to the refrigerator, he got out two eggs, Dudley's new diet. Apparently, Dudley was missing a great amount of protein, interestingly enough though, he had more than his share of Carbohydrates and sugars. Thus, eggs were the new meal. Eggs with milk, goat milk. The refrigerator had milk and eggs stacked on every shelf. Eggs and goat milk, vile stuff. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Seven days a week.

He quickly heated the eggs in a pan, and heated some goat's milk in a pot. A few minute after Harry had managed scrap the contents of both the pot and the pan in their rightful container, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley came inside the kitchen. Dudley was busy telling his mother how popular he was at school, and how horrid it was having to tell his new girlfriend where his cousin was being held during the winter. How Dudley had gotten a girlfriend was totally beyond Harry, and if what Dudley said that she looked like was true, then the girl must have been a nutcase. Harry sneaked a look at his uncle. He seemed bored, slightly disappointed to have to switch from one diet to another. 

They all sat awkwardly around the table, with Dudley on one side and the three other people present on the other. They started to eat. Aunt Petunia swallowed the food mumbling how good it was to Dudley all the way down. Dudley on the other hand was shuffling the eggs around on his plate. He smashed a small portion of it around the brim of the plate with his fork, and hid the bigger portion of it under his knife. Vernon and Harry seemed to be working for the same thing, though they hated each other. 

Harry's pov

Dudley was being urged to eat his food much similar to how a toddler might be convinced to eat his, by Aunt Petunia. Harry watched as Dudley hid his food and looked up at him. Dudley made a punched his hand, causing waves to shiver up his arm. 

A small jerking movement in the side of his eye cause him to look down. Uncle Vernon was leaning over and putting his egg behind the fake tree that sat by the door to the kitchen.

Uncle Vernon looked up at me. 

"Give here, boy" he whispered in hush tones. Harry slid his egg into a napkin and gave it to his uncle. Uncle Vernon persisted in putting the eggs behind the pot. "Throw them away later."

Harry smirked. 'He had cake waiting upstairs, Uncle Vernon didn't have anything.' Harry's thoughts were interrupted by his uncle grumbling at him.

"Lets go out to dinner tonight," suggested Uncle Vernon with glee. "The boy should have some regular food too." 

Aunt Petunia seemed disappointed by having to go out to dinner. She seemed to enjoy eating the eggs as much as Dudley enjoyed eating chocolate. 

"Boy, come out here into the den so I can give you your list of chores." 

Harry followed wordlessly. He knew that it could not be helped, and besides, if he didn't do the chores where would he go? He had no one. No one who loved him like a son. No one to talk to. No one to hug. So he might as well keep his mind off of that and just do the chores. 

* * *

As he reached the door, Uncle Vernon shushed him immediately. By soundless footsteps, Uncle Vernon lead Harry to the Cupboard under the stairs. He opened the door and to Harry's amazement, was greeted by the sight of food. Not eggs sort of food. Real food. Real. Food. His uncle had been holding out on him. Uncle Vernon grabbed Harry by the scruff of the neck and crawled inside the small cupboard. 

"Quit staring at me, boy." Uncle Vernon looked nervous. "we will starve if we keep eating that stuff. I have some boxes in the Garage, I need you to sneak them in here and help clean up the eggs everyday." 

Harry stared at Uncle Vernon for a while. 

"And we can share some of my goodies in here too." he said as he motioned to the wrapped sandwiched, soda bottles, and begs of chips. 

This pleased Harry, if he was caught, he wouldn't be punished bad. He wouldn't have to eat anymore of the tasteless, watery eggs and goat milk. And he would benefit over all in this deal. 

"Fine." Harry answered his pleading Uncle. "What if Dudley finds out?" 

"He won't." Vernon shrugged. "You'll see to that."

* * *

Harry spent the majority of the week sneaking Uncle Vernon's food into the cupboard. His uncle was in an unnaturally good mood today as he strode through the door; promising to reveal a secret to the rest of the family during their dinner. 

Dudley trotted into the kitchen, causing several of the nearby pictures to fall from their never-changing area on the walls. Harry slowly followed after him; because he did not eat anymore at dinner time, these periods were starting to become just a dreaded meeting of his nasty relatives. 

Uncle Vernon was already sitting at the head of the table, a joyous presence was plastered to his face. Harry almost wondered if someone had cast a cheerful charm on him. These thoughts brought him to Sirius. He wondered where his godfather might be at the moment, whether his godfather was in any danger. Well, any mortal danger anyways, his godfather was always in danger of getting captured by the ministry of magic. 

With half of dinner past, aunt Petunia was getting very antsy, wondering what news her husband held. Vernon, noticing her obvious excitement, stood up to tell his family the news. 

"Today, Mr. Grunnings came into the office, and promoted me!" Vernon, at this point looked around at the faces of his family. Petunia looked excited, Dudley was bored, and Harry was not paying attention. For the sake of his pride and his wife Petunia, he went on. "I am now executive manager of all Grunnings Drill factories in the London area." 

At this, Petunia screamed out of joy, not joy for her husband's new job, but joy for the new social rank her family was just given. After a few seconds of whooping, she stepped out of the room to call her Bridge friends to tell (brag) the good news. 

The moments sitting at the kitchen table with his cousin and uncle had to be the longest time of Harry's life. The rest of the member's of the house hold quickly threw away any extra 'food,' and left Harry to quickly wash the dishes. 

* * *

The picture was that of his parents. Somehow it had slipped out of the book Hagrid gave him. Harry stared down at it, his parents with their friend. Their wedding day. 

The garage door could be heard going up, and Uncle Vernon's car could be seen backing out of the driveway. Harry went back to the picture. 

Sirius Black was grinning at him, a big toothy grin, blinking his eyes every so often. Where was Sirius right now? Was he safe? Harry pondered this for the second time. 

Harry's eyes flew to Peter Pettigrew. The little rat, wormtail. Memories of the events at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament returned to his mind. Images of wormtail carrying you-know-who flooded his memory. The portkey, the graveyard, the bones, and the green spell; and he had let a wounded boy die. He should be the one dead. Cedric should have lived. He should have jumped, done anything. Instead he just rolled around on the floor, holding his scar. He should have ignored his scar. His scar, the root of all his problems. This damned lightening bolt shaped scar. 

Harry rolled over and cried himself to sleep. Drifting off to the sound of the clock downstairs. 

* * *

Harry woke up to the sound of the television down stairs. The wheel of fortune was on. He could here the goofy sound at the end of the show. What time was it? 

He looked over at the semi-broken watch on his bedside table. 

_11:36 pm _

He figured that his aunt and uncle were still up to pick up Dudley. He jumped slightly at the sound of the phone ringing. He heard his uncles preoccupied voice from below. 

"Yes, yes, he did what? My son would never do that, officer. I don't know what it could have been–no he is not crazy, officer. No, I don't know where he may have gotten it. Yes, I am his father. Sure, I will be right down." 

Harry heard the ding as he slammed the phone down. "Boy, get your arse down here!" He shouted up at Harry. 

Harry moved slowly toward the door, he felt every step closer was one away from Hogwarts, he could feel the uncertainly in his feet. The tips seemed hard to move today. 

* * *

Harry found himself waiting for Vernon to bail out Dudley, Apparently, Dudley was found naked, on the top of a tree, at the party. The police told Aunt Petunia that they believe that Dudley had taken drugs. 

Uncle Vernon came out of the office with Dudley and the officer. 

"Do you have any idea where he may have gotten them?" the officer inquired. 

"No, idea" Uncle Vernon started, "–I mean to say, I know exactly where he got them." Uncle Vernon grinned a devilish grin at Harry, then glanced over at the policeman. The officer seemed to be hanging off of his Uncle's every word. "My nephew–has a bunch of it–I warned him to get rid of it." His uncle glanced over at him. 

"Sir?" the officer questioned, looking at the scrawny boy, in rag-tag clothes before him. 

"Its true!" his aunt shot out. "He grows a bit of it in his room!" 

The officer stared at her for a moment. 

"Well," said the officer with hesitation. "bring it to me, in the mean time, I will hold him in custody." 

As he said this, he started to escort Harry to a single holding cell. Still looking quite doubtful at Harry. 

* * *

When Vernon managed to return to the jail, it was well after 4:30 am, Dudley was muttering something about giant bugs. Vernon reached inside of his coat and produced a sorry-looking bag of cocain. Powdered cocain. Harry wondered where he had managed to get it. The officer, amazingly still on duty, inspected the bag before laughing his head off. 

"This is cocain." he managed out in between gasps. 

"And?" inquired Uncle Vernon. 

"Your son had large amounts of marijuana in his blood, nothing like this." He held up the plastic bag. The officer made for the keys, to unlock the holding cell that Harry was contained in. 

"STOP!" fumed Uncle Vernon. "These drugs were in his room, in his possession, do your job." 

The officer stopped in his tracks. He buckled around in his step. "Thank you for pointing that out Mr. Durdle..." The officer started. 

"That's Dursley." replied his Uncle, hand clenched in fury. "I bid you goodnight." The Dursleys started to walk out. 

"And a very good night to you, sir!" The officer called back. 

* * *

Harry woke up to the sound of his lock "clicking." Harry felt around on the cot for his glasses. As he struggled to put them on, he was greeted with the site of Mr. Weasley, Percy, Mr. Bode, Mr. Croaker, and a few other odd faces. He looked over Percy's shoulder, where he saw Mr. Peasgood, modifying memories. 

"I didn't do it!" cried Harry to Mr. Weasley. 

"We know," replied Ron's father, "but you know reporters, if they get a word of it, there could be big problems." Mr. Weasley sighed. "We had Ron clear your things. . . knew we would miss something–Professor Dumbledore says you may spend the rest of the summer with us." 

Harry grinned. Half of the summer with the Weasleys. 


	2. Never Before

**_Author's Note:_** I hope everyone likes this, I rewrote it 9 times. LOL. If I had stuck with number 4 you would all be reading a 142kb chapter. *sigh* I rewrote it because I had made Ron way out of character (he origionally spit on Harry). So thank me all of you Ron-lovers. Also, I killed all chapter to all my stories, and somehow I ended up mixing up this story, with 2 reviews, with sword of fortune's reviews. Which came to a total of 60 reviews... lol. *innocent look* Most are old flames, they don't apply to this story. Heh. 

**_Disclaimer:_** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_**The Long Road to Hogsmeade: Freedom Included**_  
**Chapter 2**

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Harry stumbled out of the fireplace, still grinning from the idea of an entire summer with his best friend. Mr.. Weasily and the other group of his rescue party stumbled out of the fireplace soon after. 

"I sure hope we lost them." muttered Bill, as he turned towards his father. Mr. Weasley had a worried expression on his face. His eyes unfocused as he debated whether or not they were in danger. 

"What is it, Mr.. Weasley?" Harry asked. His face fell, "Oh no, its not... him? Is it?" 

"No," came Mr.. Weasley's reply. He sighed deeply, "we might as well tell you the truth." He set his glasses down on the table. "We found out today that a half-blood named Rowling,something or other, has published a muggle book about you." 

Harry raised an eyebrow. "but-they have written books about me before... this." He nearly strangled on his words. 

"No, I am afraid that you don't understand me, Harry. She didn't publish the book inside of the wizarding world, but as a muggle novel." 

Harry looked puzzled at this-not knowing what to say about such an incident-he found that only one question was on his mind. 'Why? Why him? What was so important about him?' He quickly decided to voice his puzzlement. 

"Why me?" 

Ron stepped out of the dark shadows of the Burrow. "B'cause you're Harry-blasted-Potter. That's why. All the ladies want you, and all the blokes want to be you." 

Ron turned around. Harry could swear he saw a single tear run down his face. He watched as the retreating Ron trembled up the stairs. 

A moment of silence passed. 

"Well, that went well." mouthed out Mr.. Bode. "A successful evening I would say." He turned to Mr.. and Mrs.. Weasley. "I thank you for a most interesting night, but I am afraid I must attend to other matters." He turned, addressing the crowd, and said simply, "I bid you good night." 

" . . . and a goodnight to you," quickly mumbled Mr.. Croaker. "Molly, Arthur-I am afraid that I must be going too, as the hour is late." 

Respective goodnights were handed out as one by one the party left. Soon, only the twins, Bill, Charlie, Mrs.. and Mr.. Weasley, and himself were left. Mrs.. Weasley was quickly shuffling around the kitchen making hot coco. 

Harry turned to Mr.. Weasley. "Have there been any further attacks, Mr.. Weasley?" 

"Well, Harry, yes and no." Came the reply. "There have been attacks, but not on muggle-borns, rather quite the opposite." Charlie interrupted him. 

"The families of purebloods, more than favored by their money purses, have been attacked." 

Mrs.. Weasley served the hot chocolate, and they chatted for another 20 minutes-all uneventful-before going up to bed. 

  


* * *

  


A clicking could be heard as cheap dragon hide boots swiftly made contact with the floor. An echo sounded throughout the corridor, and in every branching chamber. Tom Riddle was not one to waste time. Constance Malfoy and her cousin, Riane, had held him up for almost an hour. He had things to do, and places to be. It wasn't like he _needed_ to talk to them. He knew that Riane's father was a muggle-born, even with her mother hiding it. 

Tom turned quickly, looked up and down the long corridor to make sure that nobody was coming. Confident that he would not be found out, he uncovered a blank section in the wall, shedding the tapestry that hid it. He shoved a hand close to his mouth and whispered the password. He was smart enough to realize what he had. The key to life! The way to live on forever--well, at least a portion of him. The Forbidden Section held such secrets. 

He looked through his bag in a hurry, before his face became alight with recognition. He pulled out a wrinkled bundle of cloth, then proceeding to open it. There was a book inside. He stopped for a second, admiring the moving snake on the front. 

He stared straight at the snake, and translated in parsletounge, "One day I will return for you, my sweet." 

He quickly, and carefully hid the book, before sealing the spot shut. A minute later, he replaced the tapestry, that marked the spot fairly well. He was off as quickly and quietly as he had come. 

  


* * *

  


Harry woke up with sweat all over his body. His dream fresh inside of his mind. Jumping out of his bed, he ran over to his table. He had to remember that dream. Knowing that he had already begun to forget the details of the dream, he wrote down, '**_ Tom Riddle, wall, book._**.' 

Harry smiled down at the parchment. He nodded to himself and staggered over to his bed. Once his head hit the pillow, he was instantly asleep. 

  


* * *

  


Ginny came into the room late, Ron was sitting up in his bed. 

"Mom says that you and Harry need to wake up, or you will miss breakfast." Ginny informed him. She tapped her foot. "Well? Are you going to wake Harry up?" 

"No, he can wake up on his own. Why not? He already does everything else by himself." Ron paused for a moment. "If you want him to wake up so much Gin, then wake him up yourself." 

She shrugged and walked over to the bed that Harry was asleep in, Ginny tried to wake him up. 

"Five more minutes, Aunt Petunia." came the reply. 

"I'm not your Aunt." came an extremely dark monotone. Her eyebrows showed her annoyance. 

"Oh, sorry Dudley, you sometimes have a woman's voice." 

Ginny's face fell. She could notice a slick, toothy grin spread across Ron's face. That certainly was not very funny. She noticed Harry roll over. He seemed to be smiling in his sleep. The hairs on the back of her neck lifted up, partially out of anger. He was faking it! How dare him. 

Ginny grabbed the edges of the mattress, and drug it off of the bed. As Harry fell he grabbed onto Ginny's arm. As Ginny fell with Harry, she grabbed Ron. Soon Harry and Ginny were rolling around laughing. Ron, on the other hand, got up and stared at the two of them. 

"Oh, quit it, you two. I'm not in the mood." 

Harry took this time to force a pause in his hysterical laughter. Ginny completely stopped. A moment, and there was nothing but silence in the air. 

"What's crawled up your---" Fred told Ron from the hallway. He stopped when he noticed both Harry's, Ginny's, and Ron's look of astonishment. He foraged a reply with a shrug of the shoulders. "What? I just want to know what's crawled up him and died." 

Harry burst out in another fit of hysterical laughter. How great it was to be back at the Burrow. 

"Oh, pipe down-you git." Ron stated quite clearly. Perhaps a little to clearly. 

"Well, Ronnikins!" he said with mild mock astonishment. I'll remember this around Christmas time!" He grabbed the door handle and slammed the door. 

Harry continued to laugh after the door had been closed. 

"Oh, shut up Harry." 

"Anytime, Ronnikins, Lets go down to breakfast." 

  


* * *

  


By the time that Ginny, Ron, and Harry made their way down to the breakfast table, the table was littered with Beacon, eggs, toast, and sausage. They quickly sat down to do their duty to Mrs.. Weasley. 

Harry was halfway through his second egg, which he had been working at intensely, before he took a good look around the table. He noted Percy, Mr.. Weasley, Charlie, and Bill's absence. He looked over at Ginny, making eye contact with her. 

"Um, mum?" Ginny started with uncertainty. "Where are dad and Percy?" 

"Down at the ministry, dear." 

"And where are Charlie and Bill." 

"Dumbledore called them both early this morning." 

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "What's happened?" He immediately directed this question at Mrs.. Weasley. 

"I don't know, Harry. Finish your breakfast and we will go to Diagon Alley. We'll go to the Daily Prophet and find out what's happened. Besides it gives us a chance to pick up your school supplies. Oh, I almost forgot. These came earlier this morning." She picked up several Hogwarts letters off of the counter behind her. 

"But, why don't we just owl Professor Dumbledore and find out what's happened." Ron suggested through a mouthful of eggs. 

"Oh, no, I wont let you bother him-he has enough to worry about, already." She looked worried. "Finish your breakfast." 

Harry made sure to eat until completely satisfied before taking his plate over to the sink. 

Mrs.. Weasley turned around from her post at the kitchen sink, "Your not going to go wearing that, Harry dear?" 

Harry took a look at his apparel. He was wearing an oversized sweatshirt that had once belonged to Dudley and a pair of slacks. "Of course not," he began, "I'll go up to change." 

Harry ran up the stairs to Ron's rather orange room. He picked out a nice undershirt-he wasn't sure where he had gotten it. He kept on his slacks, but also put the sweatshirt that Mrs.. Weasley had given him the Christmas before. 

Shoving his wand in his back pocket he flew out of the door and down the stairs and into the kitchen. Ginny had as well gone to change her apparel. She styled a patched cloak. Light from a window behind her made her look beautiful. Like an angel, Harry noticed. 

"Ok, are we all ready to go?" asked Mrs.. Weasley decisively. Alright, lets go. Ron, you'll go first, Harry second, Ginny, Fred you go with George, and I'll go last. 

Ron grabbed some powder, and threw it into the fireplace. "Diagon Alley!" Ron had made sure to specify his location clearly. Harry noted that the air had a sooty texture to it after Ron's departure. 

"Well, hurry up, Harry" Stated Fred bluntly. 

Harry took some powder up in his hand and mimicked the actions that ron had committed before him. A moment later he was engulfed in green flame. 

  


* * *

  


Charlie dodged a curse. Something smashed into his back. It was Bill. 

"God, that came close, eh?" he inquired. 

"More than you know." Charlie answered. This was rough. Hogsmeade was under what he could only guess was a death eater attack. Another curse flew past his ear, causing the brick wall behind him to explode into a million shards. The shards rained down, each symbolizing one life that would be taken by the end of this war. Charlie looked out into the meadow just further than the Hog's Head. He could see a young man with sandy blonde hair fall to the ground. He seemed to be suffering from a mortal wound as he was clutching his sides. Blood began to squirt from his mouth. Charlie saw as the kid literally began to cry blood. Charlie couldn't take it anymore. He turned to Bill and threw up. 

"Thanks, just what I needed." shouted an exasperated, gasping Bill. Charlie shot his brother a look of concern. A curse had obviously made its mark. 

"Priori Incantatem." He made sure to pronounce each and every part of the spell correctly. He had always had problems with the particular charm. Bill gave him a nod before setting off to hex some more dark wizards. They had been fighting since early this morning. Thank god that Professor Dumbledore sent for them before the attack. If he hadn't, well, to be perfectly frank--there would have been a lot of dead wizards. 

Charlie backed into what remained of the once-brick wall. He took a break, setting his eyes upon the scores of dead. His eyes settled on a small girl, perhaps about the age of four. Her body was contorted in different directions. Perhaps even raped. Her throat looked like it had been slashed. Her bloody mid-section also suggested that she had suffered a horrendous wound before her death. Charlie let a shiver go throughout his body. This was what he was fighting to protect. This was his whole reason for being here-in Britain. This was why he had left his dragons. So why was it still happening? Why was this not prevented? He had to do more to stop it. They were just delaying the inevitable. He knew it, Snape knew it, and above all, Dumbledore knew it. They needed to do more. Simply put, they were not doing enough. 

Charlie barely noticed Bill make his way to his side. He nudged him. 

"Look, Charlie." Bill seemed to be pointing slightly beyond an old shack. Charlie had to move slightly to the right to see what laid beyond the obstruction. It was an apparation point. Charlie issued a side glance at Professor Dumbledore, who in turn issued the order to finish the battle. Swift and easy. Charlie allowed the words to his second-to-last spell of the battle to leave his lips. A severing charm. And within a moment, every white wizard or witch involved shot a measure of fireballs at the gathering of Death Eaters. The battle was over.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Here We Go Again

**_Author's Note:_** Two years on fanfiction.net. I rock. 

**_Disclaimer:_** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 

  


_**The Long Road to Hogsmeade: Freedom Included**_  
**Chapter 3**

  
It seemed to be like every other day in Diagon Alley. However, on closer inspection, the alley was in fact solely inhabited by Hogwarts student. Each of them had a sack of galleons in one hand, and a crisp Hogwarts letter in the other.

Harry, and Ron made their way away from the Weasley clan. The rest of the group began to disperse to meet with their respective friends. 

"We're leaving at 2:30." shouted Mrs. Weasley. Her call was made in vain, as half the Weasley's didn't even hear her. Harry noticed with interest, as she made her way towards the Leaky Cauldron, to undoubtedly socialize with the patrons.

"Come on, Harry, I really want to go see what new brooms came in at Quality Quidditch Supplies." Ron said as he brandished a sock that seemed to be filled with gold coins. He caught Harry's eye. "Did some work for Fred and George." He blushed. "I'm going to get a new broom, and I think some better dress robes."

Harry burst out in laughter as Ron's face contorted into a look of disgust at the very thought of his old dress robes. "Fine with me, but I need to stop by Gringotts first." Ron gave him a disappointed look. "Then we can go to Quality Quidditch Supplies, and I think I need a few new robes. Mine are getting to small."

Ron nodded in sympathy. "I know what you mean." he said as he looked down at his own robes. They began walking down the alley to where Gringotts stood. The bank had changed little in the years since Harry had first visited it. Its grand doors still impressed Harry immensely. The pair approached the counter.

"May I help you?" bluntly asked the goblin, lacking all form of proper courtesy.

"Please," replied Harry, giving the goblin his key.

"Ahh, Rogmah," the goblin called, "take the lad to vault 560." The goblin turned back to his work.

The ride down was easy enough, Ron enjoyed most of the ride, Harry on the other hand had his eyes closed the whole time. The goblin helped both boys out of the cart, a rare courtesy to receive from a goblin. He calmly let Harry in, Ron stood outside-obviously embarrassed.

The ride to the top was uneventful. They exited the bank and quickly made their way down the street to Quality Quidditch Supplies. 

As they walked inside of Quality Quidditch Supplies Harry recognized the familiar shape of a firebolt highlighting the area behind the desk. But, Ron seemed to miss the firebolt and hover directly over to the window. Harry quickly followed his friend making his way over to the display. He had to squint to see the silver letters on the handle.

_ The NIMBUS 2004 _

Harry noticed the added features. Ron was slobbering.

"What is it, Ron?"

"Only the best broom that I think I have ever seen-well excluding the firebolt."

"ummm."

"I mean, it isn't as fast as the firebolt, but it is slightly more accurate. See, it has longer tail twigs than the firebolt. Seems to me that you would have to be careful when clipping its tail twigs."

Harry shrugged. He hadn't been in the wizarding world long enough to really recognize such details. It scared him how much he knew and how much he had yet to learn. They spent about 25 minutes shifting around the shop. It hadn't seemed like long until Ron mentioned a new store which had apparently just moved to Diagon Alley. They decided to go to see what was it was all about.

As Harry walked into the store, he found two very gloomy twins. Ron rushed straight to the music section of the shop. Harry went to go see what was wrong with the twins.

"What's the matter, guys?" Harry asked.

"None of the bloody shops..." started George.

"Will let us inside, the..."

"Bastards."

Harry looked at the pair cynically for a few moments. "Umm, do I dare ask why?" Harry inquired.

"Ah, George here had the brilliant idea to try to take over all the shops on the alley." explained Fred.

"Shut up, you agreed!" George defended himself. "They wont let us buy anything, says we are barred for life."

"The good news is that we may take over the Diagon Alley partner of Quality Quidditch Supplies..."

"but the deal was expensive as hell, just for a few ruddy old brooms..."

"maybe we will make enough dough to buy out someone else though."

Harry was slightly overwhelmed by the twin's market Sauvé. "Umm, okay-" he was interrupted by Fred.

"Enough of that old boy! I hear this place has a great dueling section." Fred and George were true to their words. The dueling section seemed quite complete, though having never experienced one before, Harry could only assume.

As Harry left the shop he had already spent half his galleons. He was packed down with all sorts of things. Leg guards, dueling belts, several potions, a dueling kit, and the amount of books he got put Hermione to shame. He noticed that Ron was looking at him a little strangely, "What's the matter?"

"Think you could have gone a bit more overboard, Harry?"

Harry grinned. The stuff looked useful, and well... neat.

The majority of the rest of the trip to Diagon Alley was spent purchasing school supplies and butter beers. Harry made it back to the burrow without incident. 

  


* * *

  
The next few days were spent in a rush, and they swirled by Harry. Before he knew it, it was the night before the day he was to go back to Hogwarts. Harry drifted off to sleep. Dreams awaited him.

_ "Ah, Petrarchen, hiding have you?" He raised his wand to eye-level with the lone death eater, dressed and shriveling in the corner of the dingy dungeon. "I expected more of you," he paused, "my spy."_

"No!" the death eater claimed, she hesitated with her next few words. "I didn't, my lord. I swear."

"Don't worry," the Dark Lord answered her with ice, "I'm not going to kill you... today, Petrarchen."

"Tha--err--thank you, my Lord."

"I am offering you an offer," he began. "will you be willing to step up to it?"

The Petrarchen rose from her crouching position in the corner. "And what does this offer entail?" She had regained her nerve.

"Ah, always the careful one. Yes, yes." he began again. "Trivial matters, and perhaps a... position?"

The woman blushed. "You are, and forever will be, my liege." She bowed to the Dark Lord, and disappeared with a 'pop.'

  


* * *

  
They made it to Kings Crossing Station quickly enough. They used Ministry cars like previously. It was raining. All the Weasleys and Harry had made it through the barrier and into their compartments without incident. Harry and Ron had just sat down when Hermione opened the door.

"Hi Harry, Ron." She gave Ron a nod. They had at least 30 minutes to spare, so Hermione pulled out a book immediately. 

"Heyya, Hermione." Harry greeted her. "Did you have a nice summer?" 

"Well, sort of." replied Hermione, looking up from her book. "SOMEBODY wouldn't leave me alone."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"She went to go see VIIIIIIIIICTOR!" began Ron. "He is such a--"

"Ronald Weasley, if you say one more word I WILL make sure it is the last word that you EVER take."

"I'd heed her warning, Ron, she knows the spells." Harry looked gingerly over at the book she was reading. It titled, _Annoying Beasties and how to Silence them_ by Irrie Tate. Harry couldn't help but laugh at obvious humor created by the title.

"What?" Hermione snapped, obviously still fuming from Ron's outburst. The thought hit her hard, yet, she did not take it with exactly the same humor as Harry had previously. "That is not funny. Harry Potter."

"Oh for Merlin's sake, miss prefect had to rear her ugly--" Ron never finished his sentence as suddenly Hermione had fired a spell and Ron no longer had a mouth, nor ears Harry noticed with amusement. He dared to wonder whether or not Hermione had purposely included that part in the spell.

Ron looked around frantically for the rest of the trip. When the witch with the snacks came around, Ron was devastatingly unhappy. She gave Hermione and Harry a meaningful look. 'Shame on you,' she mouthed to them.

"So, Hermione, What's this I hear about prefects?" Harry asked.

"Oh, well Sprout told me, actually." Hermione began. "You know, perfects are NOT told they are prefects until a few minutes before the feast, but Professor Sprout felt bad during last year's exams."

"Oh, that's great Hermione, why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"Well," She blushed, completely forgetting Ron was present."I was afraid that you guys would make fun of me."

"No, no." Harry started.

"I know I am nerdy old Hermione." She proclaimed. "Its okay, Harry, its who I am." 

"I know, Hermione."   


* * *

  
No mais. 2 years registered at FF.net :) 

  



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